


The Queen's Warden

by UninspiredPoet



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbian Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Play, Rare Pairings, Rough Sex, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:22:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22640971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UninspiredPoet/pseuds/UninspiredPoet
Summary: Sira Moonwarden has returned from Darkshore wounded in more ways than one. Betrayed and abandoned by her Goddess and by her former lover, she seeks the solace offered to her by the only thing she yet believes in. Her Queen. Her Warchief.Sylvanas Windrunner.((Disclaimer: My not-for-profit transformative work is only published by me on Archive of Our Own. I do not give my consent or authorization for it to be reproduced or displayed on any third-party websites or apps.))
Relationships: Sira Moonwarden/Sylvanas Windrunner
Comments: 11
Kudos: 68





	The Queen's Warden

“She will atone for it by releasing me from my torment…” Sira’s own voice sounded as foreign to her as the words had when they'd come from Maiev. She didn't flinch as Sylvanas examined a deep wound in her shoulder that the apothecaries had already seen to. It was mending. Sira barely felt it. 

Everything felt far away, now. 

“How generous of her.” Sylvanas mocked as she, herself, re-wrapped Sira’s shoulder with fresh gauze. Gauze not darkened by the ichor that had seeped from the wound when it had been worse. 

Sira’s eyes flashed in Sylvanas's direction as the other woman moved across the room and slid the latch of the door shut. 

They were deep beneath Orgrimmar now. Where it was cool and dark and comfortable for both of them. Sylvanas was dressed as she usually was when they met with each other. Dark, soft leathers and an even darker cloak. None of the heavy, severe armor had come with her. Even her bow was absent.

That wasn't to say her Queen was unarmed. Sira knew the blade that hung at her thigh was as deadly in her hands as any arrow. 

But she didn't fear it. She didn't fear anything, now. 

“She got away.” Sira rasped quietly as she slowly lowered herself onto the fur rugs spread out along the floor of the dark room. No need for light. They could both see just fine. 

Sylvanas looked down at Sira silently as the Warden finally discarded what grace she yet carried herself with and allowed her back to hit the furs so she could sink into them. 

“I am sorry, Sira.” Sylvanas sounded so genuine that Sira couldn't help but gaze in her direction. “It is a difficult thing, to learn that those we once loved now see us as something to merely be purged.” 

“Loved?” Sira asked curiously, her brows furrowing. 

“I am no fool, Sira.” Sylvanas chided as she finally unhooked her sword from her belt and leaned it against the wall near the door. “Was it recent? That you were lovers?” 

Sira remained quiet as Sylvanas moved towards her and lowered herself smoothly next to her. This woman moved with more poise than Sira ever could have imagined. It still confounded her, sometimes.

“Not recent,” Sira responded carefully, her chest rising further than it had been as she ran her fingertips along the Warchief’s side. One of the only thrills left to her was touching her this way. This woman who had saved her when her own goddess had forsaken her. This woman who had become everything to her. Her goddess. Her commander. Her lover.

And Sylvanas allowed this...she simply leaned over onto one elbow while Sira splayed her fingertips against the dark cloth of the shirt that hung against her deceptively small frame. 

“I am no stranger to the language Maiev Shadowsong speaks. To the world that she operates in.” Sylvanas finally said as she reached out to touch over Sira’s hair. She was fond of the long, stark white strands. Silkier and longer than her own. “Vengeance is a cruel mistress...and she doesn't share.”

“I never thought to change her. I'm not a child.” Sira muttered bitterly, and Sylvanas moved closer - meeting that anger with her own presence. Sira was angry often. She was new. Unaccustomed to how vividly she could still feel that one, singular emotion when all others were just out of her reach. 

But she was valuable. Far too valuable to be left to sort such things out on her own.

That had been Sylvanas’s initial concern, anyway.

A concern that had slowly shifted into something...more.

The Warchief has always been attracted to power...and to beautiful things. Sira had both in spades. And undeath suited her _so_ well. 

“I would never abandon you as they did.” Sylvanas almost cooed those words as she tilted Sira’s chin up slowly and looked into the almost feral, dangerous red glow of her eyes. Her own merely smoldered in return. “I knew that you would return to me. If I had any doubt, you would not have found yourself alone. Not again. Never again.”

The intensity in Sira’s gaze wavered for a moment before it finally began to ebb. 

“You must think me an incompetent fool,” Sira whispered. “If anyone should have bested her, it was me.”

“I think no such thing,” Sylvanas stated simply. The corners of her lips quirked faintly as Sira’s hand moved towards the laces of her shirt. A question without words.

 _Can I have you, then? Can I touch you here? Like this?_

There was a certain measure of reverence in the way Sira looked up at her, then. A reverence Sylvanas appreciated greatly. 

Enough so that she reached to give the laces Sira had been toying at enough of a tug to free them and allow half the shirt to fall down her shoulder. 

Sira’s eyes fell immediately. Taking in the sight of an archer’s shoulder and chest coupled with the soft curve of her breast. A flicker of recognition crossed her face. Beautiful. 

Sylvanas Windrunner was beautiful. This time, and all the times before. Small and delicate in some ways, yet only when she desired to be.

Silently, Sira traced the lines of what had been exposed to her with her fingertips, and Sylvanas continued to smile as she watched her.

“There is a gift for you in my bag.” Sylvanas finally announced quietly, and Sira glanced towards the dark leather satchel that she had previously thought only contained salves and gauze. “Yes.” Sylvanas encouraged when she saw where Sira’s eyes had landed. 

Sira slowly moved away from Sylvanas and across the room towards the bag. She could feel Sylvanas’s eyes on her. And that was fine. She was more concerned about this gift. Until she opened the bag, anyway. 

The corners of her lips turned up in the faintest hint of a smile as she dropped the bag and examined the finely crafted harness and attachment she was now holding. 

“Is this a gift for me...or for yourself?” She asked as she turned slowly to see Sylvanas now leaned against the wall nearest the door rather casually - her shirt still hanging down her shoulder and the laces of her breeches now loosened. 

“I find your bluntness so alluring, Sira.” Sylvanas drawled as she hooked her thumb into the waist of her breaches to further expose the line of muscle that cut its way down along her hip. 

“My apologies, My Lady.” Sira husked in response, now fully enthralled in this little world Sylvanas had created for them. She placed the harness aside just long enough to tug her pants down where they were left on the floor. 

Sylvanas appreciated the practiced ease with which Sira stepped into the harness and began fastening it without pause on her way over. 

“Don't be coy. It's a gift for the both of us. If you don't feel so inclined…”

“Inclined to what? To fuck you? I'm very inclined, my Queen. I feel as though you already know that.” Sira was against her, now. Replacing Sylvanas’s hands with her own and slowly lowering herself to her knees along with the smaller woman’s breeches until Sylvanas was stepping out of them and looking down at her with a faint tilt of her head.

“And here we are,” Sylvanas whispered, smirking at the slight tremor of Sira’s fingertips as they ran slowly up her thighs. “And perhaps I did.” 

Sira wasn’t ready to stand yet. She was much more inclined to nuzzle between Sylvanas’s thighs and nip at the crooks of them

“You’re being terribly...careful tonight,” Sylvanas observed idly as Sira’s lips brushed the area just above her clit. She sounded almost disappointed. 

“Am I?” Sira asked, and a firm grip on Sylvanas’s thighs followed. One that lifted them easily onto her shoulders so that she was only supported by Sira and the door. 

There was something different about Sira’s eyes, then. Something hungry and possessive. Perhaps a little teasing. 

“Am I not to supposed to serve my Queen with reverence?” Sira asked - her voice a low murmur dangerously close to where Sylvanas was most sensitive. It was almost enough to draw a true reaction from her. Almost. 

Instead, Sylvanas just twirled some of Sira’s hair idly around her finger and smiled. “It is so good to see you playing games. Even if they are with me.” 

“I’m not playing games,” Sira whispered before grazing Sylvanas’s clit with her teeth. Ever so lightly. But it was enough that Sylvanas’s back arched as she let out a long, steadying breath. 

“Aren’t you?” Sylvanas asked, moving one of her thighs just enough that it began slipping from Sira’s shoulder. 

In an instant, She found her legs around Sira’s waist, instead. Held there by a grip that would have been bruising for most. But for Sylvanas...oh, it was exquisite. The slightest bite of pain. Followed by the pressure of Sira’s strength pinning her against the wall, and the tease of the shaft of the toy pressing between her legs. Trapped between them. 

“Do you want me to play games, Sylvanas?” Sira asked in a quiet rasp against the underside of her jaw. “Have you longed for a lover who would _dare_?” 

“You’ve never disappointed me, Sira,” Sylvanas whispered as she leaned her head to the side to enjoy the feeling of fangs dragging along the skin of her neck. “Games or not. Though I am growing slightly impatient if I’m being entirely honest.”

Sira tugged Sylvanas’s cloak away from her face then and smirked at the warning grown that earned her. 

“Good,” Sira whispered into Sylvanas’s ear, toying with the lobe of it with the tip of her tongue before drawing it between her teeth. “How long, do you suppose?” She continued, now rolling her hips hard into Sylvanas’s own. Just once. Just enough.

“How long what?” Sylvanas hissed as she reached between them in an attempt to move things along, only to find they were pressed too tightly together for any such thing. 

“How long would you wait here like this? How long would you pretend to be helpless against it all for the sake of my taking you?” 

Sylvanas allowed her head to lean back against the wall rather lazily, and Sira’s eyes flashed up in response. She was almost surprised to find an almost cat-like smirk on Sylvanas’s lips. “Likely for as long as you can pretend you don’t want to hear me moaning for you. But I know that you do. I know it’s one of the only things that feels truly real anymore. Believe me, Sira. I know.” 

Sira’s determination evaporated. Whether that had been true sentiment or merely a ploy - she couldn’t know and wouldn’t ask. She pulled her hips back just enough for Sylvanas to finally reach between them and guide the tip of the toy right where she wanted it. 

But Sira didn’t give in immediately. Well. Not technically. She absolutely pressed her hips forward. She absolutely didn’t stop until she was buried to the hilt and Sylvanas had let out a quiet groan of appreciation. 

But she did stop, then. For a while, anyway. Long enough to make sure Sylvanas’s legs were wrapped around her waist tightly enough that she could pull her hands away and find the other woman’s wrists with them. She promptly pinned them when she had, and Sylvanas’s fangs glinted in the faint light Sira’s eyes produced as they were bared in something that was a mix between a warning and a plea. One that wouldn’t be voiced. Sira knew that much. 

But when she finally started moving, she found no complaint from Sylvanas. It seemed she was more than prepared for the deep, strong thrusts. So much so that she worked her hips along with Sira’s, meeting each thrust with a soft, breathy sound that wasn’t quite a moan. 

Sira tightened her grip around Sylvanas’s wrists just before she released them, allowing her to find purchase with her nails in the Warden’s back and, in turn, allowing Sira to carry her away from the wall towards the furs that were piled over the floor without pulling out. 

Which was the absolute last thing Sylvanas wanted right now. Sira could tell by the tightening of legs around her waist. And it was an intoxicating feeling, indeed. 

But…

“Would you care to indulge me a request?” Sira asked as Sylvanas panted quietly and gave one of her long ears a faint tug in an attempt to urge her back into movement. 

“Mm...make your proposition, my Warden…” Sylvanas almost purred those words as she looked up at Sira through heavy-lidded, glowering eyes. 

“On your hands and knees...My Lady.” 

“Oh...absolutely.” Sylvanas breathed with a glint in her eye and a smirk on her lips. 

With just a hint of reluctance, Sira pulled back to allow her to move. But that reluctance was well worth the sight of Sylvanas unclasping her cloak and letting it fall to the floor followed soon thereafter by her shirt. 

She made no small show of turning and lowering herself down. Of spreading her knees apart and looking over her shoulder at Sira with a slight flick of her ear. “Like this, my Warden?” She asked lowly. “Is this how you want me? Hm? Is this how Kaldorei prefer to fuck?” 

Sira clenched her jaw as her ears pressed back in response to being teased so. Both visually and with those heated murmurs falling from Sylvanas’s lips. “Perhaps.”

“Fuck me, then,” Sylvanas responded as she kept right on looking at Sira. At the hard, long lines of her body and just how sure she was in every move she made. Even when she rocked slightly to get her knees on either side of Sylvanas’s - it was with a certain measure of ease and grace. Of surety. 

Sylvanas let her head fall between her arms, then. Or at least, she attempted to. Until Sira caught her hair in her fist and held it where it was, even pulling it back slowly as she leaned over her to brush her cool lips against her tensed shoulder. 

“That was the plan, yes.” Sira husked as she lined herself up and sank into Sylvanas as deeply as she could manage without any further warning. She reached round to splay her fingers against the Warchief’s taut stomach just to feel the way it tensed the first few times she shifted her hips.

Once she caught her rhythm, she finally got those moans she’d been wanting. Sometimes high and keening, sometimes low and trembling on their way out. 

Perhaps Sylvanas had been yearning for a lover who would dare. Who would dare tug her head back just so her ears could be teased with teeth and tongue. One who would dare fuck her so well and so thoroughly even she would feel it the next day. 

And gods, did she do just that. Until Sylvanas’s arms were shaking too terribly to hold her own weight any longer and Sira was lowering her against the furs they were kneeling on. She wasn’t done, yet. It was just...different, now.

Now, Sylvanas was treated to the feeling of Sira stretched out against her back. Kissing across her shoulders as her entire body moved, now. In slow, rolling motions that came with shuddering breaths from both of them. 

Sylvanas might have protested had it not been for Sira’s hand pressing beneath her hips to find her clit. She might have claimed she couldn’t possibly come again, had she not gone stock-still as soon as Sira began those deft, skilled ministrations. 

She would have been wrong, anyway. She absolutely came again. And then promptly reached to grip Sira’s hand in a way that left no room for argument. No room for interpretation. 

“Enough, then?” Sira asked as she finally went still, and Sylvanas chuckled softly beneath her before lifting them both with a quick push of her arms so that she could turn onto her back between Sira and the floor. 

“Quite. For one evening.” Sylvanas breathed. “Unless you’re planning on letting me return the favor.” 

“Next time, perhaps.” Sira said as she rolled onto her back at Sylvanas’s side. 

“Still punishing yourself,” Sylvanas observed idly, letting one of her hands fall to the side so she could touch over Sira’s breast through her shirt. “I have many means of making reciprocation pleasurable for you, despite whatever it is that you think you are and are not capable of.” 

“I have no doubt. You don’t seem to have any issues enjoying me.” Sira sounded unaffected. Whether that was actually the case or not, Sylvanas couldn’t tell. “It brings me pleasure to know that I please my Queen.” 

“You please her well.” Sylvanas complimented before shifting onto her side and resting her weight on one arm so she could look Sira over more carefully. “Do you know that I have never lain with a child of the stars before you came to me?” 

Sira’s lids lowered over her eyes, then - lidding them heavily as she looked up at Sylvanas. “Were you surprised, or did you always surmise a fellow elf would likely have at least passable skill in this area?” 

“A fellow elf…” Sylvanas mused with a faint chuckle as she lowered herself back onto her back and drew one of the surrounding furs over them both. “I had assumed. Though I must say you are particularly talented.” 

Sira let the compliment fall against her ears, but made no effort at responding. She merely looked around in the darkness for a while before going still again. In fact, it was a long time before she spoke. “I would tell you something now, would you not think me weak for it.” 

Sylvanas looked over with a faint frown and lifted her hand to brush her knuckles against Sira’s pale cheek. “I would not think you weak.” 

“I miss very little,” Sira said after pausing for a beat. “But I would like very much to feel tired, now. To sleep. Sated. Knowing I’ve pleased a lover well.” 

Sylvanas nodded her understanding. “Know that you have pleased her well, and shut your eyes. Clear your thoughts, and find peace for a moment knowing I am here. It won’t be the same. Not quite. But I find it’s close enough.” 

Sira gazed at Sylvanas as she spoke. Found herself struck by the soft sincerity of her words. And Sylvanas’s hand stopped its idle stroking in favor of cradling Sira’s cheek. 

“You may hold me if you wish. My Warden.” She continued, with a barely noticeable furrow between her brows. 

Sira was slightly confused by the offer. It had been so unexpected that it took a moment to comprehend. 

Soon, though, Sira was turning onto her side and gathering Sylvanas into her arms. She found it infinitely more comforting than she’d thought she would. 

She was so small laying here with her like this. Tucking her arms between them, perhaps so as to make Sira more comfortable. Yet, Sira could feel the power that thrummed through her. Better now, perhaps, than ever before. And that, too, was a comfort. 

Something to believe in. Something right here, right now, to believe in.

Not something she had to have blind faith in or pray to. 

Not something that would leave her empty and bereft and alone.

Certainly not perfect. No, Sylvanas was full of machinations and motives and Sira knew that all too well. 

But she was here. 

And she was real.


End file.
